Mr. Punch's Cockney humour, in picture and story

. . OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGtLtS

PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR
Edited by J. A. HAMMERTON
4> Designed to provide in a series
of volumes, each complete in itself,
the cream of our national humour,
contributed by the masters of
comic draughtsmanship and the
leading wits of the age to " Punch,"
from its beginning in 1841 to the
present day 4 4 # 4

MR. PUNCH'S COCKNEY
HUMOUR

ONE OF NATURE'S GALLANTS. Loafer (to fair occupant on her
way to Court). " Ullo, Ethel! All alone ? "

MR. PUNCH'S

COCKNEY

HUMOUR

IN PICTURE AND STORY

WITH 133 ILLUSTRATIONS

BY

PHIL MAY, CHARLES KEENE,
L. RAVEN-HILL, TOM BROWNE,
C. SHEPPERSON, E. T. REED,
BERNARD PARTRIDGE, J. A.
SHEPHERD, G. D. ARMOUR,
GEORGE DU MAURIER, AND
OTHERS

PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH

THE PROPRIETORS OF "PUNCH"
000

THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK CO. LTD.

THE PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR

Twenty-five Volumes, crotan 8 to. 192 pages,
fully illustrated

LIFE IN LONDON

COUNTRY LIFE

IN THE HIGHLANDS

SCOTTISH HUMOUR

IRISH HUMOUR

COCKNEY HUMOUR

IN SOCIETY

AFTER DINNER STORIES

IN BOHEMIA

AT THE PLAY

MR. PUNCH AT HOME

ON THE CONTINONQ

WITH THE

RAILWAY BOOK
AT THE SEASIDE
MR. PUNCH AFLOAT
IN THE HUNTING FIELD
MR. PUNCH ON TOUR
WITH ROD AND OUN
MR. PUNCH AWHEEL
BOOK OF SPORTS
GOLF STORIES
IN WIG AND GOWN
ON THE WARPATH
BOOK OF LOYJS
CHILDREN

Stack
Anna*

EDITOR'S NOTE

•;

COCKNEY humour smacks, of course, of the town
and makes up in smartness and shrewdness what it
lacks in mellowness. The Cockney is as a rule a
conscious humorist ; you laugh with him very often,
whereas you nearly always laugh at the rustic
humorist.

George Du Maurier concerned himself a good deal
with Cockney character, but he was not in sympathy
with the Cockney ; generally he had an obvious con-
tempt for him, and most of his jokes turn on the
dropped H, the mispronounced word, and educational
deficiencies. He portrays some of the Cockney's
superficial characteristics ; he despises him too much
to be able to get at the heart of him and reveal his
character.

Take Phil May's pictures and jokes, and the

difference is at once apparent. He was fully alive to

the Cockney's deficiencies of manner and culture;

now and then he quite genially and without the

.5

2226518

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

least touch of sr.orn or
self-complacency makes
fun of them ; but he
really gives you the
Cockney character.
Take, for instance, such

a picture as his " Politics and Gallantry," his " I
say, 'Any, don't we look frights ! " his " Informal
Introduction " — (the self-consciousness of the girl's
expression, and the blatant pride of the man's) — here,
and in almost any of his drawings you turn to, you
have the absolutely natural Cockney ; his types are
full of character and so true and free from condescen-
sion that not only are we moved irresistibly to laugh
at them, but the Cockney himself would be the first
to recognise their truth and to laugh joyously at them
too. We may say pretty much the same of Charles
Keene, of Mr. Raven- Hill, of Mr. Bernard Part-
ridge, and of others of the " Punch " artists represented
here, who illustrate the essential Cockney character,
and do not go on the easy assump-
tion that dropped H's
and mispronounced
words and aggressive
vulgarity are the be-
ginning and the end
of it.

MR. PUNCH'S
COCKNEY HUMOUR

"ALL'S swell that ends swell," as 'Any remarked
when he purchased a pair of " misfits."

'ARRY AND 'ARRIET'S FAVOURITE ITALIAN
POET. — 'Ariosto.

MOTHER WIT.— First Coster. I say, Bill, wot's
the meanin' o' Congress ?
Second Coster. A shee heel. Female of conger.

A LONDONER'S RURAL REFLECTION. — The
Hayfield is better than the Haymarket.

7

Mr. Punch'* Cockney Humour

'ARRY'S LAMENT

" A public meeting was held at Hampstead last night to
protest against the tampering with the Heath by tube rail-
way promoters." — Daily Paper.

WOT ! Toobs on 'appy 'Amstid ?

A stition at Jack Strors ?
I 'old the sime a bloomin' shim
An' clean agin the lors,
Leastwyes it oughter be—
If lors wos mide by me
No toobs yer wouldn't see
On 'appy 'Amstid.

Wy, wheer are we ter go, Liz,

Ter git a breath of air ?
Yer '11 set yer teeth agin the 'eath
When theer's a toob up there.
A pinky- yaller stytion
By wye o' deckyrytion — •
I calls it desecrytion,
'Appy 'Amstid.

Oh ! sive us 'appy 'Amstid !

It 's Parrydise, you bet I
Theer ain't no smoke ter 'arm a bloke.
Nor yet no smuts as yet.
An' so I 'opes they '11 tell
This bloomin' Yanky swell
Ter send 'is toobs ter — well,
Not.'appy 'Amstid I
8

THE WILD WILD EAST

First Coster. " Say, Bill, 'ow d'yer like my new kickseys ?
Good fit, eh ? "

Second Coster. " Fit ! They ain't no fit. They're a
haper-plictick stroke ! "

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

NOTE BY A COCKNEY
NATURALIST

THE common blackbeetles (Scarabaus niger)
which so abundantly infest the culinary regions of
Cockaigne are alleged to be agreeable, although
profuse, in flavour, provided they be delicately
larded before crimping, and then fricasseed or
simply fried. Care should specially be taken not
to injure their antennae, which, when crisp with
egg and breadcrumbs, exquisitely tickle the palate
of the gourmet, and provoke him to the liveliest of
gastronomic feats. There lurks in vulgar minds a
savage prejudice against these interesting insects,
by reason, very likely, of the popular impression
that at times they have been manufactured into
Soy. But this may be assumed to be mere idle
superstition, and Soyer, the great chef, wisely set
his face against it, remarking, as he did so, " Honi
Soy qui maly pense."

Among the warblers which abound in the
vicinity of the metropolis, one of the most inter-
esting is the little mudlark (Alauda, Green-
wichicnsis) whose plaintive cry may nightly be

TO

"I say, Bill, 'ere comes two champion doners! Lefs
kid 'em 'at we're hofficers!"

II

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

heard upon the shore of the river, where these
little creatures congregate in flocks, and pick up
any grub which they may chance to meet with.

Doubts have been entertained by sundry Cock-
ney naturalists whether the pyramids of oyster
shells, which in the early part of August used to
be noticed in the streets, should be regarded as a
proof of the migratory habits of the mollusc.
That the oyster is a sluggard and objects to leave
his bed seems pretty generally admitted ; but that
he is endowed with the power of locomotion has,
fortunately for science, been placed beyond a
doubt. Whether oysters shed their shells when
they are crossed in love is a point on which the
naturalist is still somewhat in the dark.

SELF-EVIDENT. — It must have been a cockney
who said that St. Bees came from St. 'Ives.

A DEAD LETTER. — Too often H.
la

%

EPSOM up TO DATE.— 'Arry. " Ain't ye comin' to seethe 'orse
run for yer money?" Cholley. "Not me! No bloomin' fear"
I'm goin' to see this cove don't run with my money 1 "

13

ROYAL

TO DAY AT 3

" I 'ear this 'ere Patti ain't 'arf bad !
M

'-/• ^

" Would you gentlemen like to look at the old church ? "
" Ho, yus. We're nuts on old churches 1 "

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

QUOTH an eminent literary man, in the hearing
of 'Any, " All George Meredith's poetry might be
republished under one title as ' Our Georgics.' "

" Go's ' 'Icks ' ? " asked 'Arry.

" THE TEACHING OF ERSE IN IRELAND." —
" Well," says 'Arry, " it sounds uncommon
funereal. O' course I knew an erse and plumes
and coal- black 'osses is what they call a ' moral
lesson.' But why make such a fuss about it in
Ireland ? "

AN AWKWARD NAME. — 'Arry, on a marine
excursion, hearing mention made of the two sea-
birds the great auk and the little auk, inquired
if the little auk was a sparrow-'awk.

"HE is the greatest liar on (H)earth," as the
Cockney said of the lap-dog he often saw lying
before the fire.

16

THE VERNACULAR. — " Yer know that young Germin feller as
come ter sty in our ' ouse six months agow ? Well, w'en iu~t 'e
come, I give yer my word'e didn" know nothink but 'is own lengwidge ;
but we bin learnin' 'im English, an' now e' can speak it puffick — jes'
the sime as wot you an' me can."

P.C.H

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

DINNER FOR THE H-LESS. GOOD EDUCA-
TIONAL COURSE FOR AN UNEDUCATED COCKNEY.
— An aitch-bone.

*

COCKNEYS AT ALDERSHOT. — First Cockney.
" 'Ere, 'Arry, where's the colonel ? "

Second Cockney. " The colonel, bless yer, 'e's in
an W

HOUSEHOLD NOTE. — (By a Cockney). What to
do with cold mutton. Heat it.

COCKNEY CONUNDRUM. — Wot lake in Heng-
land's got the glassiest buzzum ?
Windermere.

FOR GIVES ROMANI. — The way to 'Ampton
races? — The 'Appy 'Un (Appian) of course.

18

'Bus Conductor. " Emmersmith I Emmersmith ! 'Ere ye are
Emmersmhh! "
Lixa Ann. "Oo er yer callin' Emmer Smith ? Sorcy 'ound ! "

B 2

.

POOR LETTER "A." — "Do you sell type?" — "Type,
sir? No, sir. This is an ironmonger's. You'll find type
at the linendryper's over the w'y 1 " "I don't mean
tape, man ! Type, for printing ! "— " Oh, toype yer mean ! I
beg yer pardon, sir I "

MYOPIA

Little Sinks (to unsteady party who had lurched heavily
against him). " I beg your pardon, I'm sure, but I'm very short-
sighted " Dissipated Stranger. "Do1 mensh't, shir — I've

met goo' many shor' sight peoplsh morn', bu' you're firsh gea'l'm'sh
made 'shli'sht 'pologyl "

21

Mr. Punch's CocRney Humour

OUR 'ARRY AGAIN ! — 'Arry is at a hotel where
the boarding system prevails, and sees the following
notice posted on the walls — "Breakfast, 9 a.m."

'Arry (to Waiter). " Breakfast, and some 'am."

Waiter. " We've no 'am."

'Arry. "No 'am! (Pointing to notice.) What's
that?"

Says one' Arry to another 'Arry. " I say, old man,
the papers say they 'ope 1882 will be the openin*
of a new era. What's that ? "

Second 'Arry. " Openin' of a new 'earer ?
Why, a telephone, of course, you juggins ! "

A SONG FOR COCKNEY SPORTSMEN
THE hart's in the Highlands,

Of that there's no fear,
And 'tis there you may buy lands

For stalking the deer :
But the hills are no trifle,

And they're windy and cold,
So your wish you'd best stifle,

Or buy, and be — sold.

22

GOOD NEWS

'Arry. " T'aint no good miking a fuss about it, yer
know, guv'nor 1 Me and my pals must 'ave our ' d'y
out ' 1 "

Foreign Fellow-traveller. " Aha ! Die out ! You go to
die out ? Mon Dieu ! I am vairy glad to 'ear it. It is

time 1 "

i&fe- fcv

;.v

FORCE OF HABIT; OR, CITY SUSPICIONS

'Arry (who is foraging for his camping party). "Look
here, my good woman, are these cabbages fresh ? "

Little Dobbs. "Hullo! what's that? Looks like a
mowing machine."

Hairdresser (who does not appreciate "chaff"). " No, sir,
'tain't a mowin' machine. It's meant to give gentlemen
fresh hair."

35

luxury II

riiit -f^ff-'r " *~ '^'^^^s-^fC^if'^i^^^^-^
5 •• . O^-^^V-^-i^^iir^

FOREIGN COMPETITION

Bnfw/i Habitual Criminal. " Well, if these 'ere furrin
aliens is a-goin'ter take the bread out of a honest man's
mouth— blimey if I don't turn copper 1 "

27

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

VERY APPROPRIATE. — Says 'Arry, " Regular
good place for a medical man to live in is '111
Street, Berkeley Square. But why don't he cure
it and make it Quite Well Street ? "

COMMENT BY A COCKNEY

BAD-GASTEIN ! Sounds more fit than nice, and yet
They say most healing waters there are had.

Strange, though, that people fancy good to get
By going to the Bad I

'ARRIET read from a daily paper, " Navigation
in the Ouse." " I s'pose," said 'Arry, " as the
members are goin' to 'ave a 'ouse-boat this season.
Which 'ouse ? Hupper or lower ? Which-
ever's to steer ? The Speaker or Lord 'Igh
Chancellor?"

Two DISTINCT CLASSES. — The aristocracy
and the 'A rry-stocracy.

•a

WITHERING.— 'Arry. "l s'y— does one tip the witers 'ere?'
Alphonst. " Not onless you are reecher ran ze vaiter, sare I "

»9

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

THE BLESSED HERITAGE

[" Poverty is a blessed heritage." — Mr. Carnegie.]

'ERE, Lizer, wheer's yer gratitood ? 'E ses, ses Mr. C.,

As it's a blessed 'eritage, is poverty, ses 'e.

Then think 'ow thankful an' 'ow blest we oughter feel, us

two,
But yet yer that contrairy that I'm blest, Liz, if yer do.

Wot ? 'Ungry ? Wot is 'unger ? Don't it vary the

monotony
An' Wooster sorce yer vittles, that's supposin' as yer've

got any ?
Then think of them pore millionaires wot misses the

delight
Of 'avin' 'ad no breakfast on a roarin' happytite.

Then money 1 Think, Elizer, of them cruel stocks and

shares
Wot makes their lives a torter to them martyred

millionaires
Oh, ain't we much more appy when the sticks is up the

spout
An' the kids is wantin' dinner and 'as got ter go without ?

And don't it make yer 'eart bleed, too, to think of all the

care
Of mansions in the country and an 'ouse in Grosvenor

Square ?
Ah, what would them pore fellers give if honly they could

come
An' live with all their fam'ly in our garret hup the slum ?

30

Toff. " I say, my boy, would you like to drive me to Piccadilly ?
Boy. " I shouldn't mind, old sport, only I don't fink the 'arness
would fit yer 1 "

3'

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

Wot, Liz? Yer'd like ter see 'em come ? 'Ere, none o'

that theer charf !

Yer'd sell yer bloomin' birthright for a pot of 'arf-an-'arf ?
Lor, Liz 1 Ter think as you should be in sich a thankless

mood I
Yer've got a " blessed 'eritage," an' 'ere's yer gratitood I

'ARRY EXAMINED. — Q. "What is meant by
' Higher Education ' " ?

'Arry. " Getting a tutor at so much a week.
That's the way / should 'ire education — if I
wanted it."

WHY HE is SUCH A DULL BOY. — " 'Arry," said
an eminent comic singer to his friend, confiden-
tially at the Oxford, " I'm exclusively engaged at
the music 'alls ; mayn't perform in a theatre."

" Then," replied 'Arry, knowingly, " it's all
work and no play with you."

The conclusion was so evident that, had it not
been for a good deal of soothing syrup at 'Arry's
expense, there might have been a serious breach
of the peace.

3*

P.C.H.

33

Mr. Punch'* Cockney Humour

OBSERVATIONS BY A COCKNEY
NATURALIST

A NIGHTINGALE has been heard singing in Ken-
sington Gardens (vide Times, April 19). A salmon
has been seen swimming close to London Bridge. A
trout has been observed (reposing on a marble slab)
near to Charing Cross. Sticklebacks have been
captured in the waters of the Serpentine. Plovers
eggs have been discovered in the middle of Covent
Garden : I myself have found there as many as
two dozen in a single walk. There is a rookery
in St. Giles's, well known to the police. I have
seen a pigeon shot not far from Shepherd's Bush,
and I have heard one has been plucked by a
member of the hawk tribe at another West- End
haunt. Blackbeetles are common in the back
kitchens of Belgravia, and bluebottles abound
among the butchers of Whitechapel during the
warm months. There is another kind of fly,
which is said to be indigenous to the stables
of the jobmasters, and which also may be seen by

34

c e

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

observant Cockney naturalists, but less seldom
in Whitechapel than near the Regent's Park.
Sparrow-clubs have not been established yet in
London, but pea-shooters are common in many of
its streets. I am told that early risers may hear
a male canary singing in the neighbourhood of
Islington at four o'clock, A.M., and may also hear
a cock crow any morning, except Sunday, between
five and six o'clock. The thrush has been observed
among sundry of the children, under medical
inspection, in the nurseries and infant hospitals of
town. Little ducks are plentiful in the salons of
Tyburnia, and in Bayswater and Brompton there
are numbers of great geese. Welsh rabbits may
be seen close to Covent Garden, and wild turkeys
have been noticed even in the Strand, hanging by
the beak. In the purlieus of St. Stephen's, where
are the sacred haunts of the collective wisdom of
the kingdom, I have heard the hootings of many
an old owl. From information which I have
received from members of the metropolitan police,
I may assert that larks are common in the Hay-
market, and that on the shores of the silver Thames
at Wapping there is frequently observable a

36

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

goodly flock of mudlarks. From similar informa-
tion, I may add that there are careful observers in
the streets who rarely pass a day without their
setting their eyes upon a robbin'. Who shall say
that in the very midst of the metropolis there is
not abundant evidence of a truly rural, and a
tooral-locral life ?

NlGHT-BlRDS THAT MAKE WEST-END NlGHT

HIDEOUS. — The 'owls of 'Arry after his larks.

CHARADE FOR COSTERMONGERS. — My first is
unfathomable, my second odoriferous, and my
whole is a people of Africa. — Abyss-inians.

CONSOLATION FOR COCKNEYS. — It is all very
well to talk of the fine boulevards of Paris ; but
in the French metropolis, where the rent is so
highland the living so dear, there is not one street
to be named with Cheapside.

38

39

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

MISTAKES ABOUT SCOTLAND

(Contributed by a Converted Cockney]

IT is a mistake to believe that every Scotchman,
when he goes to Edinburgh, immediately walks
down Princes Street clad in the ancient costume
of the Highlanders.

It is a mistake to believe that the piece de
resistance at every Scotch dinner-party is a
haggis.

It is a mistake to believe that a Scotchman
does not enjoy a joke every bit as much as an
Englishman.

It is a mistake to believe that a Scotch Sabbath
in the country is a whit more triste than an
English Sunday in the provinces.

It is a mistake to believe that a Scotchman sets
a greater value upon his " bawbee " than an
Englishman upon his shilling or an American
upon his dollar.

It is a mistake to believe that inns in Scotland
are dearer and less comfortable than hotels in
England.

It is a mistake to believe that we have a city in
40

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

England that can compare favourably (from an
architectural point of view) with the town of
Edinburgh.

It is a mistake to believe that it always rains in
the Isle of Skye.

It is a mistake to believe that there are no more
" Fair Maids " in the houses of Perth.

It is a mistake to believe that Hampstead
Heath is as beautiful as Dunkeld.

It is a mistake to believe that the Caledonian
Canal is at all like the Serpentine.

It is a mistake to believe that Aberdeen is less
imposing in appearance than Chelsea or Islington.

It is a mistake to believe that the countrymen
of Scott and Burns do not appreciate the works
of Shakspeare, Milton, Byron, Dickens, Thackeray,
and Tennyson.

And, lastly (this is added to the Cockney's list
by the wisest sage of this or any other age), it is
the greatest mistake of all to believe that Mr.
Punch does not like and respect (in spite of an
occasional joke at their expense) the kindly,
homely, sound-hearted people who live north of
the Tweed.

4*

43

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

BY OUR COCKNEY

WHEN is a yew tree not a yew tree ? When
it's a 'igh tree.

Talking of that, Mr. P., what a nice line the
Great Northern to Hedgware is, to be sure. I am,
as you know, werry partickler about my " H " s,
but " 'ang me," as my friend 'Arry Belleville says,
" if t'ain't 'nought to spoil your pronunshiashun for
a hage and hall time to 'ave to 'ear such names of
stations one atop of tother, as the followin,' as
called out by the porters an' guards : "

'Olloway.

Seven Scissors Road.

Crouch Hend.

'Ighgate and 'Ampstead.

Heast Hend.

Finchley and 'Endon.

Mill '111.

Hedgware.

There's a lot for you ! And t'other line goes to
'Arford, Atfield, and Saint All-buns. Saint A II Buns

would be a good feast, eh, sir ?

Yours,

Hivy 'Ousc, 'Oxton. ENERY.

44

45

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

A COCKNEY RHAPSODY

[A critic in the Daily News accuses artists generally of
ignorance in their treatment of rural subjects, and declares
that nearly every picture of work in the hay or harvest
field is incorrect.]

COME revel with me in the country's delights,

Its rapturous pleasures, its marvellous sights ;

No landscape of common or garden I praise,

But Nature's strange charms that the painter pourtrays

No summer begins there, and spring never ends,
It mingles with autumn, with winter it blends;
Its primroses bloom when the barley is ripe,
Amid its red apples the nightingales pipe.

There often the shadow falls southward at noon,
And sunrise is hailed by the pale crescent moon,
The sun sets at will in the east or the west,
In the grove where the cuckoo is building her nest.

There the milkmaid sits down to the left of the cow,
In harvest they sow, and in hay time they plough ;
While mowers, in attitudes gladsome and blythe,
Impossible antics perform with the scythe.

There huntsmen in June after foxes may roam,
And horses unbridled go champing with foam ;
From torrents by winter fierce swollen and high,
The proud salmon leaps in pursuit of the fly.

Ah Nature ! it's little — I own for my part —
I know of your face save as mirrored in art ;
Vet, vainly shall critics begrudge me that charm,
For a fellow can paint without learning to farm.

46

47

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

OVERHEARD AT A MEETING OF THE UP-IN-A-
BALLOON SOCIETY. — 'Arry. Wot's the difference
between Nelson and that cove in the chair ?

Charlie. Give it up, mate.

'Arry. Wy, Nelson was a nautical 'ero, and
this chap's a 'ero nautical, to be sure.

ARRY 'AD — FOR ONCE. — SCENE — Exterior of St.
James's Hall on a Schumann and Joachim Night.

'Arry (meeting High- Art Musical Friend, who
has come out during an interval, after assisting at
Madame Schumann's magnificent reception). 'Ullo!
What's up ? What are they at now ?

High- Art Friend (consulting programme). Let
me see. They've done " Op. 13." Ah, yes !
They've just got to " Op. 44."

'Arry (astounded). 'Op forty-four ! St. James's
'All got a dancin' licence! Hooray! I'm all
there ! I'll go in for 'Op forty-five. What is it, a
waltz or a polka ? [Rushes to the pay-place.]

48

F.C.H.

Mr. Punch'* CocRney Humour

THE COMPLAINT OF THE
COCKNEY CLERK

" I know of no cure but for the Englishman (i) to do his
best to compete in the particulars where the German now
excels; (2) to try to show that, taken all round, he is worth
more than the German." — Mr. Gladstone on English Clerks
and German Competition.

ALL very fine, O orator illustrious 1

But I as soon would be a mole or merman,
As a short-grubbing, horribly industrious,
Linguistic German.

A clerk's a clerk, that is a cove who scribbles

All day, and then goes in for cue, and "jigger,"
And not a mere machine who feeds by nibbles,
Slaves like a nigger.

Learn languages ? And for two quid a week ?

Cut barmaids, billiards, bitter beer and betting ?
Yah I that may suit a sausage, or a sneak !
Whistles need wetting.

That is if they are genuine English whistles,

And not dry, hoarse, yah-yah Teutonic throttles.
I'm not a donkey who can thrive on thistles.
No, that's " no bottles."

I've learned my native tongue, — and that's a teaser —

I've also learned a lot of slang and patter;

But German, French, Italian, Portuguese, sir,

For " screw " no fatter ?

5°

AN INFORMAL INTRODUCTION.— Mrry (shotting across
the street to his " Pal "). " Hi 1 Bill I This is er I

D 9

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

Not me, my old exuberant wood-chopper 1

Level me to the straw-haired Carls and Hermanns ?
No ; there's another trick would do me proper, —
Kick out the Germans 1

Old Bismarck's " blood and iron's " a receipt meant

For sour-krautt gobblers, sandy and sardonic 1
But for us Britons that Teutonic treatment
Is much too tonic.

The cheek of 'em just puts me in a rage,

Send 'em back home, ah 1 even pay their pasrage
Or soon, by Jove, we'll have to call our age,
The German " sauce "-age I

"ON A CLIFF BY THE SEA'

(Whit Monday)

A VERSE for " 'Arry " ? Well, I'm shot 1
(Excuse my language plain and terse)
For such a nuisance I have not
A verse.

His praise don't ask me to rehearse,

But, if you like — I'll tell you what—
The role of Baalam I'll reverse.

Only, like Balak, from this spot

Desire me 'Arry's tribe to curse,
To grant that prayer you'll find me not
Averse I

53

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

'ARRY IN ROME AND LONDON

A KIND correspondent calls Mr. Punch's atten-
tion to the fact that 'Arry the ubiquitous crops up
even in the classics as Arrius, in fact, in Carmen
Ixxxiv. of Catullus. How proud 'Arry will be to
hear of his classical prototype! Our corre-
spondent " dropping into verse," exclaims : —

Yes ! Your Cockney is eternal ;

Arrius speaks in 'Arry still ;
Vaunts 'is " hincome " by paternal

11 Hartful" tricks hup 'Olborn '111.

How well he is justified may be seen by a
glance at the text of Catullus : —

DE ARRIO.

"C/iommoda" dicebat, si quando commoda vellet
Dicere, et " Aindsidias " Arrius insidias :

Et turn mirifice sperabat se esse locutum.
Cum, quantum poterat, dixerat " //insidias."

Credo, sic mater, sic Liber avunculus ejus.
Sic maternus avus dixerit, atque avia.

Catullus, Carmen Ixxxiv.

Which — for the benefit of 'Arry himself, who is
not perhaps familiar with the " Lingo Romano "
— though he may know something of a "Romano"
dear to certain young sportsmen, though not

54

Lady. " Half-a-cro\vn, indeed I Your fare is eighteen-
pence. I looked it up in Bradshaw."

Cabman. " Well, to be sure ! Wot a good wife you
would 'avc made for a pore man !"

55

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

dearer to them than other caterers — may thus be
very freely adapted : —

'Any to flbxford gives the aspirate stiil
He cruelly denies to 'Igate '111 ;
Yet deems in diction he can ape the " swell,"
And " git the 'ang of it " exceeding well.
Doubtless his sire, the 'atter, and his mother,
The hupper 'ousemaid, so addressed each other ;
For spite of all that wrangling Board Schools teach,
There seems heredity in Cockney speech.

COMMERCIAL INTELLIGENCE. — According to a
trade circular issued by a Cockney company,
Florence and Lucca, whence the finer description
of oils have been heretofore imported, are threat-
ened with a vigorous competition by the lies of
Greece.

THE RICHEST DISH IN THE WORLD. — The
"weal" of fortune.

'ARRY'S MOTTO. — " Youth on the prowl and
pleasure at the 'elm."

56

BACK TO THE LAND. — Farmer's Wife (who has told the new lad
from London to collect eggs). " Well, Jack, have you got many ? "

Jack (who has raided a sitting hen), " Rauther ! One old 'en
she's Irn and layed thirteen, and I don't think she's finished yetl "

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

LINES BY A COCKNEY

Addressed to A Young Lady, but dropped by some mistake
into Mr. Punch's letter-box.

S\VEET hangel, whom I met last Leve

Hat Mrs. Harthur's 'op,
I 'ope that you will give me leave

A question now to pop. .

I mind me 'ow when in the 'all
Your carriage was hannounced,

You basked me to hadjust your shawl,
Hon which with 'aste I pounced.

Then heager to your Ma you ran,

She anxious to be gone,
I 'eard 'er call you Mary-Hann,

Or helse 'twas Mari-hon.

Now, Mary-Hann's a name I 'ate

Has much as Betsy-Jane,
I could not bear to link my fate

With such a 'orrid name ;

But Aiari-hon I like as well

As hany name I know ;
Then, hangel, I emplore thee tell,

Dost spell it with a Ho ?

58

POLITICS AND GALLANTRY

First 'Arry. "Hay, wot's this 'ere Rosebery a torkin' abaat?
Bless'd if he ain't a goin' to do awy with the Lords I

Second 'Arry (more of a Don Juan than a Politician): "Do
awy with the 'ole bloomin' lot o' Lords, if he likes, as long as he
don't do away with the lidies I ''

59

"AND SHE OUGHT TO KNOW!"

"That's supposed to be a portograph of Lady Solsbury.
But, bless yer, it ain't like her a bit in private I "

60

'ARRY'S AUNT UPON THE CLIFF

A study in perspective done by 'Arry with a 'and

camera.

61

Mr. Punch's CocKney Humour

ECHO'S ANSWERS

To a Cockney Inquirer who consults her concerning the
inevitable Annual " Outing " and its probable isiuts.

Inquirer. What subject sets me worrying and
doubting ?

Echo. "Outing."

Inquirer. My wife suggests for family health's
improving ? —

Echo. Roving.

Inquirer. What's the first requisite for taking
pleasure ?

Echo. Leisure.

Inquirer. The second (for a slave to matri-
mony) ?

Echo. Money.

Inquirer. You say that woman of all founts of
mischief —

Echo. Is chief.

Inquirer. What is this close agreement of my
women ?

Echo. Omen.

Inquirer. I fear for me they '11 prove a deal too
clever ?

EUPHEMISM. Cab Tout (exasperated by the persistent attentions of
constable). " Look 'ere, ole lightnin'-ketcher, w'ere the missia'
word are yer shovin' us to ? "

63

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

Echo. Ever.

Inquirer. What is the manner of my buxom
Mary?

Echo. Airy.

Inquirer. And what 's her goal in every hint and
notion 2

Echo. Ocean.

Inquirer. How recommends she Ramsgate,
shrimpy, sandy?

Echo. 'Andy.

Inquirer. Whereas 7 hold it at this season
torrid ? —

Echo. 'Orrid!

Inquirer. And hint, with a faint view to scare or
stop her ? —

Echo. 'Opper!

Inquirer. (Meaning the Pulcx.) Answers she
politely ?

Echo. Lightly.

Inquirer. How then am I inclined to view the
mater ?

Echo. Hate her.

Inquirer. What feel I when she hints at sea-side
clothing ?

os<«r (/o acquaintance, who has been away for some months). " Wot
are yer bin doin' all this time ? " Bill Robbins who has be:n " doing
time ' ). " Oh I 've bin wheelin' a bit, ole man— wheelin' a bit ! "

P.C.H.

Mr. Punch's CocKney Humour

Echo. Loathing.

Inquire)'. Mention of what makes all my family
scoffers ?

Echo. Coffers.

Inquirer. Then if I storm, what word breaks
sequent stillness ?

ficho* Illness!

Inquirer. What feels a man when women 'gin to
blubber ?

Echo. Lubber.

Inquirer. What is the show of patience that may
follow ?

EcJio. Hollow !

Inquirer. What would the sex when it assumes
that virtue ?

Echo. Hurt you.

Inquirer. What's the result of halting and mis-
giving ?

Echo. Giving.

Inquirer. What is man's share anent this yearly
yearning ?

Echo. Earning.

Inquirer. What's the chief issue of this seaward
flowing ?

06

HE THOUGHT HE WAS SAFE. — Irascible Old Gentleman.
" Buy a comb! What the devil should I buy a comb for ?
You don't see any hair on my head, do you ? " Unlicensed
Hawker. " Lor' bless yer, sir ! — yer don't want no 'air on
yer 'ead for a tooth-comb 1 ! "

67

E a

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

Echo. Owing.

Inquirer. How long before I 'm free of trades-
men's pages ?
Echo. Ages I

?

THE MOORS. — Our Cockney correspondent says
that the birds are very wild, and that the heath
being extremely slippery, the attempt to run after
them is apt to be attended with numerous falls,
especially in patent-leather boots. He says the
exercise is fatiguing in the extreme, and complains
that there are no cabs to be had on the hills
though there are plenty of flies.

DOUBLE COCKNEY CONUNDRUM FOR THE DERBY
DAY. — "What eminent composer would in
England have probably been ' in the ring ' ? "

"Why?"

" Because who ever 'card of 'Aydn alone ?
Ain't it always a 'Aydn and abettin' ? Eh ? Now
then ! Come up, can't yer! "

68

A QUESTION OF TASTE

Liz (to Emily). " Mind yer, it's all roight so fur as it
goes. All I sez is, it wants a fewer or two, or a bit o*
plush somewhares, to give it what I call stoylel"

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

THE LAND OF THE 'ARRY'UNS. — 'Am'stead
'eath.

WHEN a vulgar husband drops his h's, a good
wife drops her eyes.

THE SNOW CURE! !

Fiendish Little Boy (to elderly gentleman, who has come
a, cropper for the fourth time in a hundred yards). " 'Ere I
say, guv'nor, you're fair wallerin' in it this mbrnin' !
H 'anyone 'ud think as you'd bin bordered it by your
medical man 111"

70

OPEN TO DOUBT

Ostkr (dubiously, to'Arry,who is trying to mcunt on the
wrong side}. " Beg pard'n, sir, I suppose you're quite
accustomed to 'osses, sir ? "

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

NOTES BY A COCKNEY
NATURALIST

THERE are various kinds of larks to be observed
by Cockney naturalists, which are more or less,
and rather less than more, indigenous to London.
There is first of all the cage lark (A lauda Miser-
rimci) which is chiefly found on grass-plats
measuring about two inches square, and may be
heard singing plaintively in many a back slum.
Then there is the mud lark (Alanda Greenwiclncn-
sts), which is principally seen towards nightfall on
the shores of the river, when the whitebait is in
season. This little lark is a migratory bird, and flits
from place to place in quest of anything worth
picking up that may happen to be thrown to it.
Finally, there is the street lark (Alatida Nocturna),
which is known to most policemen in the neigh-
bourhood of the Haymarket, and the like
nocturnal haunts.

As a gratifying proof of our progressing civilisa-
tion, there has been of recent years a very marked
decrease in the number of white mice, and

7*

" Did yer order any ile round the corner?"

" What do you mean by ile ? Do you mean oil ? '

" Naw. Not ile, but ILE wot yer drinks ! "

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

monkeys dressed as soldiers, exhibited by organ-
grinders in the London streets. Trained dogs
appear, however, decidedly more numerous, and
performing canaries may be met with not in-
frequently in the squares of the West End. The
naturalist should note, moreover^ that the learned
British pig (Porous Sapiens Britannicus) which,
within the memory of men who are still living,
used commonly to infest the fairs near the metro-
polis, has recently well nigh completely dis-
appeared and is believed by sundry naturalists to
be utterly extinct.

The rum shrub (Shrubbus Curiosus) which,
although deserving of close investigation has
somehow escaped mention in the pages of Lin-
naeus, is found in great profusion in the purlieus of
Whitechapel, as well as other parts of London where
dram-drinkers do congregate. It may be generally
discovered in proximity to the Pot-tree (Arbor
Pewteriferens),\vhich may be readily recognised by
its metallic fruit.

The common cat of the metropolis (Felis Catter-
waulans) is remarkable, especially for the exceeding
frequency and shrillness of its cries when it goes

74

A QUESTION OF THE SENSES.— First County Councillor.
" I'm told the acoustics of this hall leave much to be
desired, Mr. Brown 1" Second C. C. (delicately sniffing).
" Indeed, Sir Pompey ? Can't say as I perceive anythink
amiss, myself; and my nose is pretty sharp, too I "

75

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

upon the tiles, or proceeds to other spots of feline
popular resort. Sleep becomes impossible within
earshot of its yellings, and the injury they cause
to property as well as human temper is immense.
It has, indeed, been roughly estimated that thirty
thousand water-jugs are annually sacrificed, within
a circuit of not more than six miles from
St. Paul's, by being hurled from bedroom windows
with the aim to stop these squalling feline "Voices
of the night."

A certain proof that oysters are amphibious may
be noted in the fact that they always build their
grottoes in the courts and the back streets of the
metropolis where, in the month of August, with
extravagant profusion, their shells are yearly
cast.

The scarlet-coated lobster (Le Howard MilUaire,
Cuvier) has been frequently discovered on the
shores of the Serpentine, or basking by the
margin of the water in St. James's Park. This
crustacean, when treated well, will drink like a
fish, excepting that, unlike a fish, he does not con-
fine himself to water for his drink. His shell
(jacket) is of a bright red colour, which is not

76

QUICK WORK. — Guttersnipe. " Please muvver wants sixpence on
this 'ere fryin' pan." Pawnbroker. " Hallo! it's hot I" Gutter-
snipe. " Yus, muvver 's just cooked the sossidges, an' wants tha
money for the beer I "

77

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

produced, as in the lobster species generally, by the
agency of the caloric in the act of being boiled.
The scarlet-coated lobster leads, while in London,
a very peaceful life, notwithstanding his presumed
propensities for fighting.

If we may credit the statistics which, with no
slight labour, have been recently collected, no
fewer than five million and eleven blue-bottles are
annually slaughtered in the butchers' shops of
London, before depositing their ova in the primest
joints of meat. The number of the smaller flies
which, merely in the City, are every year
destroyed for buzzing round the bald heads of
irritable bank clerks, amounts, it has been
calculated, to one million three hundred thousand
and thirteen.

FROM TAPLOW. — First 'Arry. I'll tell you a
good name for a riverside inn — " The Av-a-
launch."

Second 'Arry. I '11 tell you a better — " The 'Ave-
a-lunch." Come along!

78

Philanthropic Coster' (who has been crying " Perry-wink-
wink-wink / " till he's hoarse— and no buyers). "I wonder
what the p'or unfort'nate creeters in these 'ere low
neighbVoods do live on I I"

80

RUDE INQUIRY
Street Arabs. " Hoo curls yer 'air, gov'nonr ? "

P.C.H.

81

•^ 3
en £>"
< =

A, f. \ , : rv.s^

r «v §"!

:^z^f

F 2

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

SONGS FOR THE NATION

" Auvs u/oe a Xv£vpv <rdi'y« eo-o-cvrtaA."

'ArrystopJianes.

IT is evident that the nation is yearning for
singable songs in the 'Any dialect. The late
lamented Artemus Ward would probably have
said, " Let her yearn " ; but a stern sense of duty
impels me to try and meet the need, created by
the Daily Chronicle. I have a comforting impres-
sion that all that is necessary to insure correctness
is to "chinge" as many "a"s as possible into
" i "s. By this means I secure the " local colour-
ing," which, by the way, has undergone a com-
plete change since Dickens spelt Weller " with a
wee, my lord." A catchword, d propos of nothing,
is always useful, so I have duly provided it.

'ARRY THE OPTIMIST
I.

Oh ! you should see

My gal and me
(Mariar is 'er nime),

When we go daown

To Brighton taown
To 'ave a gorjus time.
86

I

s

P £

- s

2"o

H -

h. .

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

She wears sich feathers in 'er 'at,

She's beautiful and guy,
But it ain't all beer and skittles — flat

And 'ere's the reason why :
Refrine —

She 'urries me, she worries me,
To ketch the bloomin' trine ;
She 'ustles me, she bustles me,
She grumbles 'arf the time :
It's " 'Any do," and " 'Arry don't,"
Which " 'Arry" will, or " 'Arry " won't

(It goes against the grine),
But—
(Triumphantly.)

We 'as a 'appy 'ollidy,
We gets there all the sime.
— 'Urry up, 'Arry.

II.

And when we reach
The Brighton beach
It's sure to pour with rine
A pub is not
A 'appy spot
For us to set and drine
Yet there we set and tike our beer

And while awy the dy,
Though we don't 'ave words, no bloomin' fear

Mariar 'as 'er sy.
Refrine —

'Er langwidge is for sangvvidges,
She's sorry that she time ;
88

89

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

The weather's wrong, 'er feather's wrong,

I 'as to tike the blime.
It's " 'Arry " 'ere, and " 'Arry " there,
And " 'Arry, you're a bloomin' bear,"

And " Arry, it's a shime " —

(Spoken."} — Which is 'ard on a feller ! And then we 'as
to ketch the bloomin' trine again, and she do talk, but
never mind —

(Brightly.)

We've 'ad a 'appy 'ollidy,
We gits 'ome all the sime.
— 'Urry up, 'Arry 1

COCKNEY SPORT EXTRAORDINARY. — Well-
known sporting character, residing at Putney,
being unable to reach the moors this season, and
having lost his gun, has lately amused himself by
bringing down several brace of grouse by means
of the Brompton omnibus.

AT THE Zoo. (A FACT). — 'Arriet (looking at
the Java sparrows). Wot 's them ? Sparrerkeets ?

'Arry. Sparrerkeets be 'anged — them's live
'umming birds.

90

-h /M5- /^fpf ^ -•

PP^w

t»ff|f!

•^~J r^i/ V ^ ?•- ' '>«. '

-Jy\ x v-- '.v_

^

11 Penny 'addick." " Finen ? " •• No ; thick 'uu 1 '

93

"Fader's gettin' better. 'E's beginnin' ter swear
again 1 "

94

Vendor of Pirated Songs. " Er y'are, lidy 1 "OlyCity,
' Bu'ful Star,' ' Hi cawu't think why Hi lubs yer, but H
do!"'

Hi

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

'ARRY ON HIS 'OLIDAY

Being an epistle front that notorious and ubiquitous person,
luxuriating for the time in rural parts, to his chum Charlie,
confined in town.

WHA' cheer, my dear Charlie ? 'Ow are yer ? I promised

I'd drop yer a line.
I'm out on the trot for a fortnit ; and ain't it golumpshusly

fine?
Bin dooing the swell pretty proper, I beg to assure yer, old

man.
Jest go it tip-top while you're at it, and blow the expense,

is my plan.

Bin took for a nob, and no error this time; which my
tailor's A i.

The cut of these bags, sir, beats Poole out of fits. (Are yer
fly to the pun ?)

And this gridiron pattern in treacle and mustard is some-
thing uneek,

As the girls — but there, Charlie, you know me, and so
there's no call for to speak.

My merstach is a coming on proper — that fetches 'em,

Charlie, my boy ;
Though one on '«m called me young spiky, which doubtless

was meant to annoy.
But, bless yer ! 'twas only a touch of the green-eyed, 'acos

I looked sweet
On a tidy young parcel in pink as 'ung out in the very

same street.

96 .

SELF-RESPECT. — The Missus. " Oh, Jem, you said you'd
give me your photergrarf. Now, let's go in, and get it
doiie." Jem. " Oh, I dessay ! an' 'ave my ' Carte de
Wisete' stuck up in the winder along o' all these 'ere
bally-gals an' 'igh-church parsons I No, Sairey ! "

P.C.H.

97

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

O Charlie, such larks as I'm 'aving. To toddle about on

the sands,
And watch the blue beauties a-bathing, and spot the sick

muffs as they lands,
Awful flabby and white in the gills, and with hoptics so

sheepishly sad,
And twig 'em go green as we chaff 'em ; I tell yer it isn't

half bad.

Then, s'rimps ! Wy, I pooty near lives on 'em ; got arf a

pocketful here,
There's a flavour of bird's-eye about 'em ; but that's soon

took off by the beer.
The "bitter" round here is jest lummy, and as for their

soda-and-b.,
It's ekal to " fizz " and no error, and suits this small child

to at.

The weeds as I've blown is a caution ; — I'm nuts on a

tuppenny smoke.
Don't care for the baths, but there's sailing, and rollicking

rides on a moke.
I've sung comic songs on the cliffs after dark, and wot's

fun if that ain't ?
And I've chiselled my name in a church on the cheek of a

rummy stone saint.
So, Charlie, I think you will see, I've been doing the

tourist to rights.
Good grub and prime larks in the daytime, and billiards

and bitter at nights ;
That's wot / calls 'oliday-making, my pippin. I wish you

was here,
Jest wouldn't 've go it extensive ! But now I am off for the

pier

98

THE TRIALS OF OUR ARTISTIC FRIEND,
LEONARDO DA TOMPKINS

(Who lives in an nnappreciative Suburb)

'Art-id (nudging her lidy friend, and in an ostentatious
stage-whisper). " 'Amlet ! "

99

c a

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

To ogle the girls. 'Ow they likes it ! though some of their

dragons looks blue.
But lor' ! if a chap has a way with the sex, what the doose

can he do ?
The toffs may look thunder and tommy on me and my

spicey rig out,
But they don't stare yours faithfully down, an' it's all nasty

envy, no doubt

Ta 1 ta ! There 's a boat coming in, and the sea has been

roughish all day ;
All our fellows will be on the watch, and / mustn't be out

of the way.

Carn't yer manige to run down on Sunday ? I tell yer it's
larks, and no kid 1

Yours bloomingly,

'ARRY.
P.S. — I have parted with close on four quid !

POISON IN THE BOWL. — Hot weather. — Advice
by our own Cockney. Don't put ice in your
champagne. It's pison. How do I know this ?
Because it comes from Venom Lake.

SEASONABLE. — 'A rry's friend. What's the proper
dinner for Ash Wednesday ?

'Any. Why, 'ash mutton, o' course.

100

Tenor (singing). Oh, 'appy, 'appy, 'appy be thy dreams -
Vrojnior. Stop, ttop ! Why don't you sound the H ? "
Tenor. " It don t go no 'igher than G I ''

101

'i-

First Newspaper Boy. " Hullo, Bill I Who 's 'e ? " Second Newtpaper
Boy. " I suppose 'e's the North Pole as 'as just been discovered I "

102

Gorgeous-looking Individual. M Most 'strordinary weather, ain't it I
First it's 'ot, then it's cold. Blow me, if one knows 'ow to dress I"

103

• I say, Bill, wot 's a Prodigal ? "

•• Why, a Prodigal's a sort o' cove as keeps on coming
back I "

104

NOT WHAT SHE EXPECTED
SCENE — Canal side, Sunday morning

Lady. " Do you know where little boys go to who
bathe on Sunday ? "

First Arab. " Yus. It's farder up the canal side. But
you can't go. Girls ain't allowed I "

105

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

'ARRY ON 'APPINESS

DEAR CHARLIE,

A 'Appy New Year to yer 1 That's the straight tip

for to-day,
So I'm bound to be in it, old chip, though things don't

look remarkable gay.
I inclose you a card— a correct one, I 'ope, though it

strikes one as queer
That such picters is thought apprypo this perticular time of

the year.

You'll observe there's a hangel hi muslin a twisting 'erself

all awry,
With some plums, happle-blossoms, and marigolds, backed

by a dab o' blue sky.
Dekkyrative it's called, so the mivvy informed me who

nobbled my tanner ;
/ call it a little bit mixed, like the art on a Odd-Fellow's

banner.

But, bless you, it's all of a piece, Charlie— life is so

muddled with rot
That it takes rayther more than a judge or a jury to tell

yer wot's wot.
Whether knifing a boy 'cos one's peckish means murder

if lyings are libels,
Seem questions as bothers the big wigs, in spite of their

blue books and Bibles.

Where are we, old pal? that's the question. Perhaps it

would add to one's ease
If life wos declared a " mixed wobble," it's motter a " go

as you please."

106

AN EASTER OBJECT LESSON
(At the Natural History Museum)

Visitor. " Hullo ! I say, I've got 'em agin I Gi' me the
blue ribbon ! "

107

Mr. Punch's CocKney Humour

But 'tisn't all cinder-path, Charlie, wus luck I if it was,

with " all in,"
You wouldn't go fur wrong, I fancy, in backing "yours

truly " to win.

" A 'Appy New Year ! " That's the cackle all over the shop

like to-day.
Wot's 'Appiness? Praps Mister Ruskin and little Lord

Garmoyle will say.
You an' rne'sgot our notions of yum-yum, as isn't fur wide

o' the mark,
But who'll give us change for 'em, Charlie ? Ah I that's

where we're left in the dark.

The Reform Bill won't do it, my pippin, no that you may

lay your last dollar.
The fact is this 'Appy New Year fake is 'oiler, mate,

hutterly 'oiler.
Twon't fly— like the Christmas card hangels, it doesn't fit

into the facks ;
All it does is to spread tommy-rot, and to break all the

postmen's poor backs.

You'll be thinking I've got the blue-mouldies, old man,

and you won't be fur hout.
Funds low with yours truly, my bloater, no chances of

getting about.
Larks, any amount of 'em, going, advertisements gassing

like fun,
But 'Arry, for once in the way, 's a stone-broker and not

in the run.

1 08

His BEST " SOOT."— Short-tempered Gentleman in Black (after
violent collision with a stonemason fresh from work). " Now, I'll
arsk you jest to look at the narsty beastly mess as you 've gone 'and
mide me in I Why, I'm simply smothered in some 'orrid white
stuff! I Why don't yer be more careful III"

IOQ

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

It's cutting, that's wot it is, cutting. I'm so used to

leading the field,
That place as fust-fly at life's fences is one as I don't like to

yield,
Espechly to one like Bill Blossit — no style, not a bit about

Bill!
And they talk of a 'Appy New Year, mate, and cackle o'

peace and goodwill !

Oh yus, I'd goodwill 'em, Bill Blossit and false Fanny

Friswell, a lot 1
They are off to the world's fair to-night, sir, and that's

wy I say it's such rot.
If form such as mine's to go 'obbling whilst mugginses

win out o' sight,
I say the world's handicap's wrong, mate, and Christmas

cards won't set it right.

Lor bless yer, 'e ain't got no patter, not more than a

nutmeg, Bill ain't ;
But the railway has taken his shop, and he's come out as

fresh as new paint.
And so because Vm out of luck, and that duffer has landed

the chink,
She 'ooks onto him like a bat to a belfry, sir 1 What do

you think ?

A 'Appy New Year ? Yus, it looks like it I Charlie, old

chap, I've heard tell
Of parties called pessymists, writers as swear the whole

world's a big sell ;
No doubt they've bin jilted, or jockeyed by some such a

juggins as Bill;
And without real jam—cash and kisses — this world is -a

bitterish pill.

110

OVERHEARD DURING ONE OF OCR RECENT STORMY DAYS.—
" Wn at cheer, matey ! Doin* any business ?" "Garn! Wot yer
gettin' at ? I ain't 'ere to do business. I'm takin' the hopen hair
treatment ! "

III

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

Still, I wish you a 'Appy New Year, if you care for the

kibosh, old chappie,
Though 'taint i'gh art cards full o' gush and green paint'll

make you and me 'appy.
Wot we want is lucre and larks, love and lotion as much

as you'll carry 1
Give me them, and one slap at that Bill, — They're the new

year gifts to suit 'ARRY.

AT SCARBOROUGH. — 'Arriet (pointing to postillions
of pony -chaises). Why do all them boys wear them
jackets ?

'Arry. There 's a stoopid question ! Why,
they 're all jockeys a-training for the Ledger, of
course !

EGGING HIM ON. — Knowing old Gentleman.
Now, sir, talking of eggs, can you tell me where
a ship lays to ?

Smart Youth (not in the least disconcerted). Don't
know, sir, unless it is in the hatchway.

RETREAT FOR COCKNEY IDLERS. — Earn nil.

112

P.C.L.

REAL SYMPATHY.— 'Arry (reading account of the war in the East).
" Ow, I s'y, 'Arriet, they've bin an' took old Li 'Ung Chang's
three-heyed peacock's feathers all off 'im I " 'Arriet (compassion-

i-heyed peacock
ately). " Pore old feller ! "

114

"SWEET LAVENDER!"

H 3

FT,

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

'ARRY ON THE MERRY MONTH
OF MAY

DEAR CHARLIE,

'Ow are yer, old Turmuts ? Gone mouldy, or moon-struck,

or wot ?
Sticking down in the country, like you do, I tell yer, is all

tommy-rot.
Its town makes a man of one, Charlie, as me and the nobs

'as found out,
And a snide 'un like you should be fly to it. Carn't fancy

wot you're about.

Old Ruskin, I know, sez quite t'other, but then he is clean

off his chump.
Where's the life in long lanes, with no gas-lamps ? Their

smell always give me the 'ump.
Come hout on it, mate, it '11 spile yer. It's May, and the

season's begun,
All the toffs is in town — ah I you trust 'em ! they know

where to drop on the fun.

Don't ketch them a- Maying, my pippin, like bloomin' old

Jacks-in-the-Green,
A-sloppin' about in damp medders, with never a pub to be

seen.
No fear ! We've primroses in tons — thanks to Beakey — for

them as can pay.
And other larks as is larks, mate, they know meet in

London in May.

Ill

Mr. Punch'* Cockney Humour

It is all very well, on a Sunday, for just arf a dozen or so
To take a chay-cart down to Epsom, and cut down the may

as yer go.
I've 'ad 'igh old times on that lay, Charlie, gals, don't yer

know, and all that,
Returning at dusk with the beer on, and may branches all

round yer 'at.

With plenty of tuppenny smokes and 'am san'wiches.

Charlie, old man,
And a bit of good goods in pink musling, it ain't arf a bad

sort o' plan.
Concertina, in course, and tin whistle, to give 'em a rouser

all round,
And "chorus," all over the shop, till the winders '11 shake

at the sound.

That's " May, merry May," if yer like, mate, and does your's

ancetrar a treat.
But the rural's a dose as wants mixing, it won't do to

swaller it neat ;
That's wy the Haristos and 'Arry, and all as is fly to wot's

wot,
Likes passing the season in London, in spite of yer poetry

rot.

Country's all jolly fine in the autumn, with plenty of killing

about —
Day 's rabbitin 's not a bad barney, and gull-potting's

lummy, no doubt ;
But green fields with nothiuk to slorter, no pubs, no

theaytres, no gas 1 —
No, no.it won't wash, and the muggins as tells yer it will is

a bass.

120

v:

A BI-METALLISTIC DISCUSSION
Jim. "What's this 'ere ' Bi-metallism,' Bill?" Bill (of
superior intelligence). " Well, yer see, Jim, it 's heiiher a licens'd
wittlers" or a teetotal dodge. The wages "11 be paid in silver, and
no more coppers. So you can't get no arf-pint nor hanythink
under a sixpence or a thrip'ny. Then you heither leaves it alone,
and takes to water like a duck, or you runs up a score." Jim.
" Ah I But if there ain't no more coppers, 'ow about the 'buses
and the hunderground rileway?" Bill (profoundly). "Ah I"

[Left

Mr. Punch'* Cockney Humour •

But May in " the village," my biffin, the mighty metro-
lopus, — ah !

That's paradise, sir, and no kid, with a dash of the true
lah-di-dah.

Covent Garden licks Eden, I reckon, at least it'll do me
Ai;

Button-'oler and Bond Street, old pal, that's yer fair top-
row sarmple for fun I

Wy, we git all the best of the country in London, with

dollups chucked in.
Rush in herby I — ascuse the Hitalian 1 — Ah, mate, ony

wish I'd the tin ;
I'd take 'em a trot, and no flounders ! It 's 'ard, bloomin'

'ard, my dear boy,
When form as is form ain't no fling, as a German ud say,

fo der quay.

I'd make Mister Ruskin sit up, and the rest of the 'owlers

see snakes,
With their rot about old Mother Nature, as never don't

make no mistakes.
Yah! Nature' s a fraud and a fizzle, that is if yer can't

fake her out
With the taste of a man about town, ony sort as knows

wot he 's about.

Well, London's all yum-yum jest now. Hexhibitions all

hover the shop,

I tell yer it keeps one a-movin'. 7'm on the perpetual 'op,
Like the prince. Aitch bar aitch is a stayer, a fair royal

Rowell, I say.
(I landed a quid on that " Mix," but I carnt git the beggar

to pay.)

IM

Cockney Macbeth (a trift "fluffy " in his words) bellows out: " 'Ang
out our banners on the houtward walls I The cry is — 'Let 'em
all come !' "

123

Mr. Punch's CocKney Humour

" Inventories " open, you know. Rayther dry, but the

extrys O.K.
It's the extrys, I 'old, make up life, arf the pleasure and

most o' the pay.
Yus, princes and painters, philanterpists, premiers and

patriots may gush,
But wot ud become of their shows if it weren't for the larks

and the lush ?

Lor bless yer, dear boy, picter galleries, balls, sandwich

sworries and all, —
It's fun and the fizz makes 'em go, not the picter, the

speech or the squall.
Keep yer eye on the buffet 's my maxim, look out for the

"jam " and the laugh,
And you'll collar the pick o' the basket, the rest is all

sordust and chaff.

That's philosophy, Charlie, my pippin; the parsons and

prigs may demur,
But if you would foller their tip, wy, you '11 'ave to go

thundering fur.
Ah ! " May, merry May ! " up in town, fills your snide 'un

as full as he '11 carry
Of laughter and lotion. That's gospel to toffs and yours

scrumptious!/,

•ARRY.

124

Hedwin. " Hangeleener! Won't yer 'ear me? Wot 'ud yer sy if
I told yer as I'd 'took the shillin' ? '• Hangelina. " Sy ? Why-
halves ' 1 "

125

126

127

• "•• ;j$ *•,-'••

"'Ere, just 'old my broom a minute. I'm just goin' up the street-
If any of my regular customers comes, just arst 'em to wait a bit I "

128

ART IN WHITECHAPEL.— " Well, that's what I calls a himpossible
persition to get yerself intol ''

P.C.H

129

Lotfer (looking at a hundred pound dressing-bag). " I wonder wot
sort of a bloke KU as wants a bag of tools like that to doss isself up
with ? "

IJO

Comin' up to 'Yde Park to 'ave a have, 'Arry ? r
1 Yers— an' 'ave all me cloves run orf wiv. Not if 7 know it I "

i a

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

THE COCKNEY'S ADDRESS TO THE SEA.—
" With all thy faults I love thee still."

A COSTERMONGER'S CANT

BILL COSTER said, " See them two fish ?

Them there's both females, mister ;
A pilchard she in this here dish :

That 'ere's her errin' sister."

V

FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS. — (By a Cockney).
Why should not Dr. Watts' poems be read by
youth ?

Because they contain Hymn-morality.

A LINE FROM BROWNING

(For hairdressers who recommend a wonderful "Restorative,"
and are careless of the aspirate.)

" An everlasting wash of air."

*

A COCKNEY CON. — When may a man really be
supposed to be hungry ?

When he goes to Nor- (gnaw) wood for his
dinner.

§PIJ?

/]

So VERY CONSIDERATE.— Stout Coster. '• Where are ye goin' to
Bill?" Bill. "Inter the country for a nice drive, bein' Bank
'Olidy." Stout Coster. "Same 'ere. I syl don't yer think we
might swop misscses just for a few hours ? It would be so much
kinder to the hanimile I "

133

'Arry (whose" Old Dutch" has been shopping, and has kept hiin
waiting a considerable time). " Wot d'yermean, keepin' me standin'
abaat 'ere like a bloomin' fool ? "

'Arriet. "I can't 'elp the way yer stand, 'Arry "

134

VERY DRY WEATHER.-" 'Ooray. Bill I
nother tanner ! Leshgobackag'in 1 "

'Ere's luck! I gorr1

'EARD ON 'AMPSTEAD 'EATH

" And talk of our bein' be'ind the French in general edication,

why all I can say is as it's the commonest thing in Paree, for instance
(over fust-dsss restorongs, too, mind yer), to see ' dinner' spelt with
only one ' N ' 1 "

felloe

DIAGNOSIS.— "1 can tell you what .you're suffering from, my(gpod

ellow! You're suffering from acne I Ackney ? Why, that s just

what t'other medical gent he told me ! I only wish I d never bten
near the place!"

'37

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

THE CAD'S CALENDAR

JANUARY.

JANUARY 1 Tailor's bill comes in.
Blow that blooming snip ! I'm short o' tin.
Werry much enjoyed my Autumn caper,
But three quid fifteen do look queer paper.
Want another new rig out, wuss luck,
Gurl at Boodle's bar seems awful struck,
Like to take her to the pantermime ;
That and oysters after would be prime.
Fan's a screamer; this top coat would blue it,
Yaller at the seams, black ink won't do it.
Wonder if old snip would spring another ?
Boots, too, rayther seedy ; beastly bother !
Lots o' larks that empty pockets " queer."
Can't do much on fifty quid a year.

FEBRUARY.

FEE RY WARY ! High old time for sprees I
Now's yer chance the gals to please or tease,
Dowds to guy and pooty ones to wheedle,
And to give all rival chaps the needle.
Crab your enemies, — I've got a many,
You can pot 'em proper for a penny.
My 1 Them walentines do 'it 'em 'ot.
Fust-rate fun ; I always buy a lot.
Prigs complain they're spiteful,

Lor' wot stuff 1

I can't ever get 'em strong enough.
Safe too ; no one twigs your little spreet
If you do U on the strict Q. T.
138

STDDIES IN ANIMAL LIFE.— The chick-a-leary cochin.
*39

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

If you're spoons, a flowery one's your plan.
Mem : I sent a proper one to Fan.

MARCH.

MARCH 1 I'm nuts upon a windy day,
Gurls do git in such a awful way.
Petticoats yer know, and pooty feet ;
Hair all flying — tell you it's a treat.
Pancake day. Don't like 'em — flabby, tough,
Rayther do a pennorth o' plum-duff.
Seediness shows up as Spring advances,
Ah ! the gurls do lead us pretty dances.
Days a-lengthening.

Think I spotted Fan
Casting sheep's eyes at another man.
Quarter-day, too, no more chance of tick.
Fancy I shall 'ave to cut my stick.
Got the doldrums dreadful, that is clear.
Two d. left — must go and do a beer.

APRIL.

APRIL I All Fools' Day's a proper time.
Cop old gurls and guy old buffers prime.
Scissors ! don't they goggle and look blue
When you land them with a regular " do " ?
Lor I the world would not be worth a mivvey
If there warn't no fools to cheek and chivy.
Then comes Easter. Got some coin in 'and,
Trot a bonnet out and do the grand.
Fan all flounce and flower ; fellows mad
Heye us henvious ; nuts to me, my lad.
MO

Sxell (who won't be done). " H 'yars my kyard if you'd —
ah — like to summon me."

Cabby (who has pulled up and heard the dispute). " Don't
you take it, Bill. It's his ticket o1 leave ! "

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

'Ampstead ! "Ampton I Which is it to be
Fan — no flat — prefers the Crystal P.
Nobby togs, high jinks, and lots o" lotion,
That's the style to go it, I've a notion I

MAY.

MAY 1 The month o' flowers. Spooney sell !
" Rum 'ot with," is wot 7 likes to smell.
Beats yer roses holler. A chice weed
Licks all flowers that ever run to seed.
Nobby button'oler very well
When one wants to do the 'eavy swell ;
Otherwise don't care not one brass farden,
For the best ever blowed in Covent Garden.
Fan, though, likes 'em, cost a pretty pile,
Rayther stiff, a tanner for a smile.
Blued ten bob last time I took 'er out,
Left my silver ticker up the spout.
Women are sech sharks ! If I don't drop 'er.
Guess that I shall come a hawful cropper I

JUNE.

JUNE 1 A jolly month ; sech stunning weather.
Fan and I have lots of outs together :
Rorty on the river, sech prime 'unts,
Foul the racers, run into the punts.
Prime to 'ear the anglers rave and cuss,
When in quiet " swims " we raise a muss.
Snack on someone's lawn upon the quiet.
Won't the owner raise a tidy riot
When he twigs our scraps and broken bottles ?
Cheaper this than rustyrongs or hottles,
142

A LABOUR OF LOVE ! — Benevolent Lady (who has with
infinite trouble organised a country excursion for some over-
worked London dressmakers}. " Then mind you're at the
station at nine to-morrow, Eliza. I do hope it won't rain 1 "
" Rine, miss ! I 'owp not, to be sure ! The country's bad
enough when it 'sfoine, yn't it, miss ? "

Mr. Punch's CocKney Humour

Whitsuntide 'ud be a lot more gay

If it warn't so near to quarter-day.

Snip turns sour, pulls " county-courting " faces.

Must try and land a little on the races.

JULY.

'Ox July ! Just nicked a handy fiver

(Twenty-five to one on old " Screw-driver " !)

New rig-out. This mustard colour mixture

Suits me nobby. Fan appears a fixture.

Gurls like style, you know, and colour ketches 'em,

But good show of ochre, — that's what fetches 'em,

Wimbledon 1 /';» not a Wolunteer.

Discipline don't suit this child — no fear I

But we 'ave fine capers at the camp,

Proper, but for that confounded scamp :

Punched my 'ead because I guyed his shooting.

Fan I fancied rather 'ighfaluting;

Ogled the big beggar as he propped me.

Would 'a licked 'im if she 'adn't stopped me.

AUGUST.

AUGUST 1 Time to think about my outing.
No dibs yet, though, so it's no use shouting.
Make the best of the Bank 'Oliday.
Fan " engaged " I Don't look too bloomin' gay,
Drop into the bar to do a beer,
Twig her talking to that Volunteer.
Sling my 'ook instanter sharp and short,
Took Jemimer down to' Ampton Court.
Not 'arf bad, that gurl. Got rather screwed,
Little toff complained as I was rude.
144

•.£-.._ •:.

/ .. *r » tf

ON EPSOM DOWNS

" Get onto 'is neck, like me, Halfred, an' they'll take us
for jockeys 1 "

P.C.H.

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

'It 'im in the wind, he went like death ;
Weak, consumptive gove and short o' breath.
Licked 'im proper, dropped 'im like a shot, —
Only wish that Fan had seen thai lot.

SEPTEMBER.

'ERE's September 1 'Oliday at last I
Off to Margit — mean to go it fast.
Mustard-coloured togs still fresh as paint,
Like to know who's natty, if / ain't.
Got three quid ; have cried a go with Fan,
Game to spend my money like a man.
But sticking tight to one gal ain't no fun —
Here's no end of prime 'uns on the run ;
Carn't resist me somehow, togs and tile
All A i — make even swell ones smile.
Lor! if I'd the ochre, make no doubt
I could cut no end of big pots out.
Call me cad ? When money's in the game,
Cad and swell are pooty much the same.

OCTOBER.

Now October I Back again to collar,
Funds run low, reduced to last 'arf-dollar.
Snip on rampage, boots a getting thin,
"Ave to try the turf to raise some tin.
Evenings getting gloomy ; high old games ;
Music 'alls! Look up the taking names.
Proper swells them pros. 1 If I'd my choice,
There's my mark. Just wish I'd got a voice ;
Cut the old den to-morrow, lot's of cham.,
Cabs and diamonds, — ain't that real jam ?

146

K 2

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

Got the straight tip for the Siezerwitch,
If I honly land it, I'll be rich.
Guess next mornin' wouldn't find me sober —
Allays get the blues about October.

NOVEMBER.

DULL November ! Didn't land that lot.
Fear my father's son is going to pot.
Fan jest passed me, turned away 'er eyes,
Guess she ranked me with the other guys,
Nobby larks upon the ninth, my joker ;
But it queers a chap to want the ochre.
Nothing like a crowd for regular sprees,
Ain't it fine to do a rush, and squeeze ?
Twig the women fainting ! Oh, it's proper !
Bonnet buffers when the blooming copper
Can't get near yer nohow. Then the fogs 1
Rare old time for regular jolly dogs.
If a chap's a genuine 'ot member,
He can keep the game up in November !

DECEMBER.

DUN December 1 Dismal, dingy, dirty.
Still short commons — makes a chap feel shirty.
Snip rampageous, drops a regular summons.
Fan gets married ; ah ! them gurls is rum 'uns !
After all the coin I squandered on 'er !
Want it now. A 'cap too bad, 'pon honour,
Snow 1 Ah, that's yer sort, though, and no error.
Treat to twig the women scud in terror.
Hot 'un in the eye for that old feller;
Cold 'un down 'is neck, bust his umbreller.
148

Mr. Punch's CocRney Humour

Ha ! ha ! Then Christmas, — 'ave a jolly feast !
The boss will drop a tip, — hope so, at least.
If I don't land some tin, my look-out's queer.
Well, let's drink, boys — " Better luck next year !

RUS IN URBE

(A Cockney Rhapsody)

As I stroll through Piccadilly,
Scent of blossoms borne from Scilly
Greet me. Jonquil, rose, and lily,
Violet and daffydowndilly.
Oh, the feeling sweet and thrilly
That these blossoms flounced and frilly
From soft plains and headlands hilly
Bring my breast in Piccadilly t
It subdues me, willy nilly,
Though such sentiment seems silly,
And a bunch, dear, buys your Willy,
To dispatch, by post, to Milly,
Dwelling, far from Piccadilly,
In moist lowlands, rushed and rilly,
Blossomy as Penzance or Scilly.
Sweets to the sweet! " Poor Silly-Billy I "
You may say in accents trilly.
When the postman in the stilly
Eve, from distant Piccadilly,
Bears this box of rose and lily,
Violet and daffodilly,
150

•-i v, IV; v,' .-.•'•

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

To the rural maiden, Milly,
From her urban lover,

\Yilly.
P.S.—

Dry as toke and skilly,
Is this arid Piccadilly,
Notwithstanding rose and lily,
All the beauteous blooms of Scilly,
Reft of that flower of flowers — Milly.
So, at least, thinks

" Silly Billy."

A COCKNEY'S EXCLAMATION UPON SEEING THE

CELEBRATED HEIDELBERG TON. — " Well, it is

(s) ton-ning ! "

»

SHAKESPEARE ON BLACKHEATH

I SAW young 'Arry with his billycock on,

Checked trousers on his thighs, with knob stick armed,

Climb from the ground like fat pig up a pole,

And flop with such sore toil into his saddle

As though a bran-bag dropped down from the clouds,

To turn and wind a slow "Jerusalem,"

And shock the world with clumsy assmanship.

9

'ARRY'S LATEST CONUNDRUM. — Why is a title-
page like charity ? — Becos it always begins a tome.
(Begins at 'ome, don'tcher see !)

152

* ;' ' % I

153

Lady Visitor (at work-girls' club, giving some advice on
manners). " And you know ladies never speak to gentlemen
without an introduction."

'Liza. '« We knows yer don't, miss, an' we often pities
yerl"

Hemma. "Oh, 'Arry, hain't this 'eavenlyt You'll
promise to give me 'am sandwiches always, when we're
in irried, won't yer ? "

'Arry. " 'Corse I will!"

155

f*< -8.^*5" f-^s^fz -_,-'- K

^IpfffT

-f^^^

fl

First Workman. " Why don't yer buy yer own matches,
'stead of always cadgin' mine ? "

Second Workman. "You're uncommon mean with yer
matches. I'll just take a few "—(helps himself to two-thirds) —
11 and be hinderpendent of yer I "

156

ERRAND BOYS

First Boy. Where are yer goin1 to, Bill ? '

Second Boy. " I've got to go right over 'Ammersmith Bridge to
Barnes, then I'se got to go to Putney and back by Fulham Koad,
then to 'Igh Street, Kensington.

First Boy. " Why, I've got to go to 'Igh Street. You go on. I'm
in a bit of a hurry, but I'll wait for yer I"

»57

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

MOST MUSICAL,' MOST MELANCHOLY. — A
Cockney gentleman who had been hearing a
concert of old music, where every piece that was
performed was in the programme termed an
" op.," observed, as he went out, " Well, after all
these 'ops, I vote we have some malt."

*

COCKNEYISM IN THE COUNTRY. — 1st Cockmy. I

say, what sort of a 'ouse will do for a fowl-'ouse ?
2nd Cockney. Lor' bless yer, hen-ny 'ouse.

*

CONUNDRUM FOR COCKNEYS. — Which has the
greater amount of animal heat, the beaver or the
otter ? Why, of course, the otter of the two.

*

SONG OF THE COCKNEY SPORTSMAN

How happy could I be in heather,

At the grouse gaily blazing away 1
But then, somehow, I can't touch a feather,

So 'tis better at Brighton to stay.

*

PRO BONO. — There is one first-rate joint that
comes to table which is the Cockney's prime
aversion — the h- bone.

'58

gyjt^l^'1

i6o

P.C.H.

161

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

SPORTSMEN AT SEA. — (Tom exhibiting a tern
which he has shot}. I say, 'Arry, wot bird's this
'ere?

'Arry. A auk, I should say.

Tom. What yer calls a sparrerawk ?

'Arry. No. Hay, u, k, auk, without the
sparrer.

*

A COCKNEY'S EPITAPH

THINK I " From the cradle to the grave ! " my brother,
A nurse takes you from one, an 'earse to t'other.

A VULGAR ERROR. — Misplacing the haspirate.

A CHEVALIERESQUE CONUNDRUM. — Coster Bill
(to 'Arriet). I si ! When is your young man like a
fish out of water ?

'Arriet. Oh, g'long ! Give't up.
Coster Bill. Why, when 'es a witin* round the
corner.

IShcrt encounter, and exeunt severally.
162

.
'

L Z

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

DISCOVERED IN DRURY LANE

(Near the new Baker Street Lodging House established by the
County Council.)

I 'OLD it true wote'er befall,
I feel it when things go most cross,
Better do a fi'penny doss,

Than never do a doss at all !

UNIVERSITY SYMPATHY. — First Errand Boy
(after ike University Boat Race}. Wot 'ave yer got
a light blue ribbon in yer button 'ole for, Tommy ?

Second E. B. (promptly). 'Cos our 'ouse allus
sells Cambridge sausages !

A MATTER OF TASTE. — Vulgar Parvenu (who
is watching the interior decorations of his house).
" Don't you think that tapestry 'eats the rooms ? "

Artistic Decorator. " Very possibly, sir ; you see,
it's Goblin (Gobelin}"

164

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

AUDACIOUS 'ARRYISM. — Our friend 'Any objects
to the title of a recently published novel, " Airy
Fairy Lilian." He says that he can't imagine a
fairy all over 'air, though he might an 'obgoblin.

THE BAGMAN'S BAG

HARK how the cockney sportsman drops
His aitches o'er the glades and glens,

But, at hen pheasents though he pops,
Your 'Arry never drops his n's.

A PAIR OF "NIPPERS." — A coster's twins.

COCKNEY CLASSICS. — "Jack," said Robins,
"which varsity would you rayther go to, Hoxford
or 'Idleberg? "

" Hoxford, Jemmy, to be sure, you muff,"
answered Robbins. " 'Cos vy, I prefers hindustry
to hidleness."

166

POOR LETTER " II "

" Have you got any whole strawberry jam ? " " NTo, miss
All ours is quite new 1"

1 68

SONGS OF THE SUMMER

" The weather seems to be improving, Nnpkins ! " «' Yes
iss; the nightingale and the cuckoo is a-'ollerin', every

miss
night!"

169

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

'ARRY ON 'ORSEBACK

OUR 'Any goes 'unting and sings with a will,
" The 'orn of the 'unter is 'eard on the 'ill " ;
And oft, when a saddle looks terribly bare,
The 'eels of our 'Arry are seen in the air I

COCKNEY EPITAPH FOR A COOK. — " Peace to
his hashes."

" A HORSE," observed a Scotch vet., " may have
a very good appetite, and yet be unable to eat a
bit." "Ah," said 'Arry, "there's the difference
between a 'oss and a ostridge, which could eat
bit, snaffle, curb and all."

LE SPORT. — A Cockney sportsman, wishing to
introduce hare-hunting into France, is seriously
meditating a work on the subject, to be entitled,
Arriere-pensees ; or, Thoughts on Keeping 'Ariers. His
now de plume will be Le petit Jean du Jockey Club.

170

rriet (as a bee alights on her hand). " My word, 'Arry, wot a pretty
" (Sting .) " Crikey ! ain't 'is feet 'ot 1 ''

171

" ' Ullo, Jim, look 'ere ! 'Ere's a noo stachoo 1 Lend us
yer knife 1 "

172

Jinkt. " I want to buy a dog. I don't know what they call the
breed, but it is something the shape of a greyhound, with a short
curly tail and rouph hair. Do you keep dogs like that ? " Fancier.
"No. I drowns 'em I"

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

COCKNEY PHILOSOPHY. — The Socratic mode of
argument is the only true mode of chopping logic,
because it proceeds altogether on the principle of
axing questions.

'ARRY PUTS 'EM RIGHT. — The Daily Chronicle
recently suggested that the plural of rhinoceros is
a disputed point. 'Arry writes: "What O,
Mr. P., ' disputed ' ? — not a bit. Any kiddy as 'as 'ad
'arf an eddication knows what the plural of ' 'oss '
is, don't he ? No matter as to its bein' spelt ' 'os '
or ' 'oss.' Plural, anyway ' 'osses.' ' Bus-'os ' —
' Bus-'osses.' ' Rhinocer-os ' — ' Rhinocer-osses.'
That's as plain as an 'aystack, ain't it ?
" Yours,

" 'ARRY."

DEFINITION FOR A DINER-OUT. — An un-
licensed wittier, quoth our worthy 'ost. — 'ARRY.

FERVOUR IN THE FOG

ising Individual (suddenly — his voice vibrating with passion).
" She's moy unney ;
Oim 'er joy ! ''

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

" Ah ! " exclaimed, enthusiastically, a hair-
dresser's assistant who had been out for a holiday.
" 'Ind 'Ead, in Surrey 1 That's the place for
hair ! "

THE REAL LONDON PRIDE. — We know an
inveterate Cockney who declares that London
milk beats the country milk, and beats it " by
many chalks."

GOOD PAPER FOR DEAF COCKNEYS. — The
'Barer.

THE MUSICAL COSTER CRAZE. — Customer.
Have you a copy of Costa's Eli ?

Shopman. No, sir ; we have none of Chevalier's
songs.

176

" I say, 'Arry don't we look frights I "
P.C.H. 177 u

" I say Bill, oo was this 'ere Nelson as everybody wos a talkin'
>out ? " " Why, 'e was the chap as turned the French out ot

about

Trafalgar Square 1 "

178

Bill, can you lend me twopence ? "
" Wot a silly question to arst ! Why, if I '
wot 'ud I be doin' standin1 ontsirfo a rmK1i,» 'n

-_, , -. _ 'ad twopence,
dom standin1 outside a public 'ouse ? "

179

M2

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

A SONG OF SPRING

By a Cockney Poet.

ALL hail, them jocund time of year,
To Cockneys and cock-robins dear !
All hail, thou flowery, showery season,
When throstles, mating, perch the trees on
When sparrows on the house-tops sit,
And court their loves with cheery twit :
While opera songsters tune their throats,
Exchanging for our gold their notes !
Now Nature her new dress receives,
And dinner-tables spread their leaves ;
Asparagus again one sees,
And early ducklings, served with peas ;
Again the crisp whitebait we crunch,
And chops of lambkin blithely munch ;
Salmon again our shops afford,
And plovers' eggs adorn the board ;
While for one day at least our sons
May stuff themselves with hot cross buns \

See now the swells begin to show
Their horsemanship in Rotten Row :
See now the Drive is thronged once more,
And idlers lounge there as of yore :
See now fair April fills Mayfair,
And gives new life to Grosvenor Square.
See now what crowds flock to the Zoo,
Where Master Hippo is on view
See daffodils, and daisies pied
In bloom, and buttercups beside :
i So

•Appy 'Arry—

" With my new panama-a-ar
And tupp'ny ciga-a-ar."

181

ENCOURAGING, VERY!

Cockney Art-Teacher (newly arrived and nervous —after a
long silence}. " If you should see a chance o1 drorin' any
thing correctly — DO so 1 1 " [Collapse of expectant student.

See now the thorn, and e'en the rose
Signs of returning Spring disclose :
See now the lilac large in bud ;
While costermongers, splashed with mud,
The product of the passing showers,.
Cry, " Here's yer all a blowing flowers ! "
Or wake the echoes of the groves *
With " Hornaments for yer fire-stoves !"

* Westbourne Grove, Lisson Grove, Camden Grove, &c
182

STANDING NO NONSENSE.— 'Arry. " Phew I"— (the weather was
warm, and tkey had walked over from 'Ammersmith) — "bring us a
bottle o' champagne, waiter." Waiter. " Yesiir — dry, sir?" 'Arry
( aughtilv, to put a stop to this familiarity at once). " Never you mind
whether we're dry or whether we ain't ! — bring the wine I "

183

SHEREDITY. — Lady. " You don't mean to tell me that this little
girl is fit to wait at table! " Mother (proudly). " Well 'm, she
ought to be, seem' as 'ow 'er father 'as been a plate layer for five-and-
twenty year! "

184

Lady (referring to Programme, to friend). " ' Schumann, op. ».'
Vhat's the meaning of ' op. 2 ' ? " 'Arry (who thinks he is being.

What's the meaning of ' op. 2 ' ? " 'Arry (who thinks he is being

addressed, and always ready to oblige with information), " Oh,
op. 2. Second dance ; second 'op, yer know. May I 'ave the
pleasure ? "

I85

THE SALE OF INTOXICANTS TO CHILDREN BILL. — " It's another
hinjustice to bus pore winimen, it is! They won't let us send the
kids for it now, an' if my heldest boy goes for it 'e 'as 'arf of it 'isself,
'an1 if my old man goes 'e never conies back! so the hend of it is, I
'ave to go for it myself! "

1 86

DISCOURAGING. — Nervous Philanthropist (on a slumming excursion).
" Can you tell me if this is Little Erebus Street, my man ? " SKJ-
picious-looking Party. " Yus." Nervous P. " Er — rather a rough
sort of thoroughfare, isn't it ? " Suspicious-looking P. " Yus ; it

is a bit thick. The further yer gows daown, the thicker it gits. I
lives in the List 'aotise."

[Exit philanthropist hurriedly in the opposite direction.

187

THE FESTIVE SEASON. — First Burglar. " 'Ere's a go, mate!
This 'ere bit o' turkey, knuckile hend of an 'am, arf a sossidge, and
the 'oily off the plum-puddin' 1 Might as well 'ave looked in on a
bloomin' vegetarian I "

188

X-<^*n '*

-

-. . •

Temperance Orator. " Ho. pause, my dear friends, pause! *•
A Voice. " Ye're riht, ole man the are /"

right, ole man, they are /
189

Mr. Punch's Cockney Humour

COCKNEY HOBSERVATION. — Cockneys are not
the only people who drop or exasperate the
" h's." It is done by common people in the
provinces, and you may laugh at them for it. The
deduction therefore is, that a peasant, with an
" h," is fair game.

NEW COCKNEY SAINT. — Mrs. Malaprop declares
that if she lives to be a hundred — and all her
family detain a venerated age — she will certainly
have a Saint 'Enery.

RIDDLE BY 'ARRY. — " Look 'ere, if you're
speakin' of a young unmarried lady bein' rather
'uffy, what well-known river would you name ? —
Why, ' Miss is 'ippy,' o' course."

190

EASTER MONDAY

'Arry. " Do you pass any pub's on the way to Broad-
stairs, cabby ? "

Cabby. " Yes. Lots M
'Arry. " Well, don't I"

igi

Mr Punch'* Cockney Humom

" I beg your pardon, ma'am, but I think you dropped
this?"

THE END

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